


there's something lonesome about you (something so wholesome about you)

by sylviewashere



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Depression, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylviewashere/pseuds/sylviewashere
Summary: Beca needs to escape. So she goes to the ocean, and she finds one.





	there's something lonesome about you (something so wholesome about you)

Everything is bullshit. 

That’s basically all that rolls through Beca’s mind these past few weeks. Well, it’s not the  _ only  _ thing. But it’s probably the most  _ positive  _ thing, and that says a lot, doesn’t it? 

From the first moment her dad told her that they were going on a vacation - as a  _ family,  _ which put a bad taste in Beca’s mouth already because she does not consider Sheila her family - Beca’s been on edge. She’s been on edge lately anyway, but this sealed the deal. 

So they packed up their car and ended up in North Carolina, along the Outer Banks. Sheila used to come here with her family as a child, but that’s all Beca hears before she puts her headphones in and tuned them out. 

The house they’ve rented isn’t half bad, Beca has to admit. It’s only a few blocks away from the beach, making it easy for them to walk there if they want. There’s all types of beach themed decor in the house and Sheila is cooing at how  _ adorable  _ it all is. Beca’s dad doesn’t appreciate the eye roll that comes from Beca’s direction. 

At first, Beca thought, this might not be so bad. Her dad and Sheila plan on taking it easy, so Beca has a lot of down time. Occasionally, they want to go out and do something - run to the beach, go shopping, see some sights. Beca passes on most of them, except any opportunity to eat. 

Her dad shakes his head, saying she can’t just keep herself cooped up and how he said she could bring a friend. 

Of course, that would require Beca having any friends. 

That isn’t fair, Beca thinks. She has Chloe and Jesse. Despite being on the verge of her junior year in college, she hasn’t really made any close friends other than those two. And those friendships weren’t even her own doing.

Jesse and her worked at the radio station together, bonding over their love of music. Beca thought that he was into her for a while, and he was, but then he started dating Luke - their boss - and that went out the window. They’re still close though, goofing around the station and eating cold pizza together. 

Chloe met her when she got lost looking for a book she needed at the library. Chloe worked there and started chatting with Beca about nothing and basically shoved her way into being friends with her. Beca wouldn’t admit that she needed that shove, but she did. 

Chloe knows more about Beca than anyone else. But that’s still not a lot. Beca keeps a lot to herself. She didn’t used to be that way, she honestly wishes she could open up to Chloe more, wishes she could talk about how she feels easier. But she can’t. She wasn’t good at it before, and she’s terrified to now. 

Truth be told, she misses the two of them a little. She could have invited them, both of them would’ve been eager guests, charming the pants off of her dad and step-monster. But something in her wouldn’t allow it. 

Her father says she’s being cold by shutting people out. Beca wants to tell him she’s not doing it on purpose, she would be happy and relaxed and  _ warm  _ if she could. But she can’t. Not yet. 

She needs to be alone, she can’t bring herself to interact with anyone even though she knows this isolation isn’t good for her. She’s felt this before. This feeling of needing to be far away, needing to escape. From what she doesn’t know. She just knows she needs to be alone right now. 

She’s not completely alone though. 

She at least has her music. 

It usually soothes her enough, listening to music in the dark in her room. She can close her eyes and listen to the lyrics and the melodies and the instrumentation. Focusing on the background vocals, noticing a bass line she hadn’t heard before. 

Every day, this is her routine. Beca grins and bares the activities that she’s now being forced to participate in. Little things throughout the day make her skin crawl in ways they really shouldn’t. A certain song playing over the radio, a comment someone makes at dinner, the way a certain person’s voice sounds. They uproot old memories, and, like nails on a chalkboard, they drive her crazy and her brain is buzzing and she needs something to make it  _ stop.  _

Soon the music isn’t enough. Not on its own. She honestly would rather be back in college. At least there she had a routine, she had Chloe and Jesse, she had something to motivate her to get out of bed. Beca’s thoughts and memories are overwhelming and she knows she’s way too far into her own head and it’s so fucking  _ suffocating.  _

She needs to leave, needs to find a way to  _ breathe.  _

The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of the floor. Beca is able to sneak out of the front door without waking anyone. The only thing she brought with her are her keys and pepper spray (just in case) and her phone. She doesn’t even bother slipping her shoes on. She won’t need them. 

The world is so quiet at this hour - Beca isn’t even sure what hour it is, about 11 maybe. She walks at a steady pace and soon she’s where she wants to be. And the moment the breeze hits her face and the sound of the waves crashing surrounds her, she feels a little weight lifted off of her. 

Nobody is on the beach right now, at least not where Beca is. She can see a couple of silhouettes in the distance, but other than that it’s empty. She pulls out her phone and finds the playlist she made for moments like these, moments where she needs to ground herself and just feel. 

Beca sits in the sand, running through it with her hands, as she watches the waves. Something about the steadiness, the ebb and flow of the tide, helps.  The sound is soothing as well, and it mixes with her music in a way that makes Beca’s skin tingle. 

_ In the darkness I will meet my creators _

_ And they will all agree, that I'm a suffocator _

_ I should go now quietly _

_ For my bones have found a place _

_ To lie down and sleep _

She doesn’t know how long she’s there. Maybe it’s been a few minutes, maybe an hour or maybe even longer. She just sits there and watches the waves and tries to feel something good. 

A moving figure catches her eye though, and she turns to get a better look. Someone - a girl, she thinks - is walking along the beach. It looks like she has a guitar with her. Beca scowls. Some idiot is going to ruin her mood. Her hand moves to turn up the volume on her phone, but she stops dead in her tracks when she hears the girl start singing. 

Beca can’t quite make out the words from here. The girl has sat down in the sand with a flashlight illuminating the area around her. Beca turns her music off and tries to listen, but she’s still too far and the crashing of waves has gotten a little louder now. 

Beca thinks about walking closer, to try to hear what the girl is singing. 

But she just gets up, grabs her stuff, and leaves. 

//

Beca didn’t think that it would become routine, but the nagging in her brain is just so  _ loud  _ at night that she has to move, has to get to the ocean so she can time her breathing with the tide, so she can listen to music and get lost and feel like she’s alone in the world for a bit. 

Except, she’s not alone.

Most nights, the girl returns. Sometimes she has her guitar, sometimes Beca just hears her voice. She’s moved a little closer to the spot where the mystery girl sits every night. Sometimes she plays songs Beca knows. But most of the time, Beca doesn’t recognize the words. 

Beca doesn’t know if the other girl notices her, if she knows Beca even exists. But her singing is beautiful. It’s soft and gentle and warm and it surrounds Beca, cradles her. So Beca sticks around and listens. But she keeps her distance, stays where she can just barely hear the soothing voice. 

One night, Beca sits down in the cool sand. Same time as always. But the girl isn’t there and neither is her singing. 

It’d be dumb to miss her, right? Beca shakes her head and pushes the thought out of her mind. She fumbles in her pocket, takes out her phone and starts playing her own music to fill the void. 

_ Please could you be tender _

_ And I will sit close to you _

_ Let’s give it a minute before we admit that we’re through _

_ Guess this is the winter _

_ Our bodies are young and blue _

_ I’m at Jungle City, it’s late and this song is for you _

Beca’s eyes are closed and she’s so focused on the sound of the music and the waves that she doesn’t hear the sand shifting under careful footsteps, doesn’t notice someone sit down next to her. A voice finally pulls her from her thoughts. 

“Hey, I love this song.” 

That voice. 

Beca opens her eyes and she finally gets to see the girl up close and she’s just as beautiful as her voice. Long, dark hair and tanned skin and deep brown eyes and an infectious smile. 

“You’re the one who’s been coming out here every night, right?” The girl tilts her head. 

“Yeah.” 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

“The ocean or the song?”

“Hm, both.”

“Yeah.”  

“What’s your name?” 

“Beca.” 

“Nice to meet you, Beca. I’m Emily,” she smiles, then turns back to face the crashing waves. 

Beca watches Emily for a moment. Emily faces Beca again and Beca looks away so Emily won’t notice she was staring. 

“Why do you come out here every night?” 

“Why do you?” Beca shoots back, accusation in her voice. 

Emily isn’t shaken by it though. “To sing. And write. I write songs.” 

“Really?” Emily holds up a little journal and flips through the pages quickly. Beca catches a few of the words - the lyrics - that are written. She realizes these are the songs that Emily’s been singing. The ones she didn’t know. “You’re a really good singer. I’ve sorta kinda been listening to you sing. Not in a creepy stalker way, I swear. I just hear you when I come out here to…” 

“To what?” Emily’s openness caught Beca off guard. 

“Think,” Beca states finally. She hopes that Emily doesn’t ask any more questions. And she doesn’t. 

They sit in relative silence, listening to the music and waves. Sometimes, Beca will hear Emily start to hum along or see her mouthing the words to herself. Her eyes are closed and she looks like she  _ feels  _ the music in the same way Beca does. 

They part ways that night without another word. 

Beca finds herself feeling a little less heavy when she goes to sleep that night. 

//

“You know, sleep is important.” 

“You should talk,” Beca scoffs. “You’re out here too, aren’t you?” 

“Not every night,” Emily shrugs. She plants herself down in the sand, close enough so that Beca can see the sparkle of her eyes in the light of the flashlight. 

They talk for a while. Emily tells Beca about how she’s here on vacation with her friend Stacie for the whole summer - a well needed break after her freshman year at college - working at a little ice cream shop around the block. The house that Stacie’s family owns is right on the beach. Emily points it out to Beca from where they’re sitting. 

Emily tries to get something out of Beca. She manages to learn where Beca’s from and where she’s going to school. When she asks Beca what she’s majoring in and Beca replies “music”, her eyes light up. 

“That’s so awesome. I was thinking about doing that, but I think it’s more of a hobby for me.” Emily draws swirls in the sand with her finger. “It helps me process things and sort through what I’m feeling sometimes. It’s like...whatever I can’t say, I can write or sing. That sounds dumb,” Emily laughs at herself. 

“No,” Beca says firmly. Emily’s eyebrows furrow. “No, I get that.” 

“At least someone understands,” Emily smiles. 

//

The next few nights are the same. Emily gets a little bit more information out of Beca, Beca gets a whole lot of information out of Emily, and they listen to music. 

Tonight, Emily brings her guitar. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Emily says while she tunes it. “I’m trying to work on the last part to the song I’ve been working on.” 

“Doesn’t bother me,” Beca shrugs. Obviously it doesn’t bother her, she had been listening to Emily days before they first spoke. 

Emily’s beautiful in general, but Beca thinks that she’s especially gorgeous like this. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, the way her face breaks into a huge smile when she finds a melody she likes. 

Beca can feel a shift. 

And it terrifies her. 

_ Don’t get attached.  _

//

“Can I hear one of them?” 

“One of what?” 

“Your songs.” 

Emily, for the first moment since Beca’s known her, starts to act shy. It’s a far stretch from the girl who’s been so open with her about any and every part of her life. Beca’s learned more about Emily in the past week than she’s learned about Jesse in the three years she’s known him.

“You don’t have to,” Beca adds. “I just...I really like music. Obviously. And I’ve heard you sing along to my music, and play guitar. But I’d like to hear something you wrote sometime. It doesn’t have to be now.” 

Emily chews on her lip for a moment. Beca’s afraid she’s crossed a line, afraid that maybe Emily’s songs are personal and she doesn’t want to pressure Emily into sharing something close to her, something meant only for her. Beca knows how that feels and would never want to put Emily in that position. But Emily starts humming softly and she grabs her guitar from where it’s laying in the sand. 

“ _ Seems like everybody here is speaking different languages. With that green prescription fog, blowing out their faces. And they all look me up and down like I'm the fucking new kid. But I saw the sun rise on this town way before you did _ .. And…” Emily pauses for a second, grabbing her journal and flipping through it. “I’m still working on the next part. But I have the chorus.” 

Beca nods and asks Emily not to stop. She doesn’t notice how her hands are clenched tight on top of her thighs, nails digging into her palms. She’s holding her breath and her usual reaction when she listens to a song is to close her eyes to take it in. But Emily is right in front of her singing again and she can’t look away. Like she’s afraid if she closes her eyes, Emily will disappear, get swept up in the salty ocean air and this will all have been a pleasant dream. 

Beca wishes her dreams were this nice. 

_ “Cause all of my friends are leaving soon. To find them, themselves another round. But I'll be here in this stranger's room. Just for now...Yeah, I'll stick with hell no's and headphones. Don't want another drink. I just, just wanna be alone. No, I don't care 'bout what you think. I'm going home. Yeah, I'll stick with hell no's and... _ Beca, oh my gosh.” 

There are tears trailing down Beca’s face, and she’s trying to wipe them away as fast as she can. Emily’s asking if she’s okay but everything sounds far away and she can’t form anything coherent. There’s a hand on her back making small circles and it grounds her a bit. 

“Sorry. I’m just...sorry.”  

“Are you okay?” Emily asks. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Beca lets out a teary laugh. “It’s...dumb.” 

“If it’s got you crying, I’m sure it’s not dumb.” 

“Your song. It’s...It’s really good. And it just got to me a bit. That’s all.” 

“Oh.” Emily is taken aback. “I’m glad you like it. I was afraid you wouldn’t. I’ve never sung any of my songs to anyone before.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. I’ve always kept them to myself. That’s why I came out here in the first place. So no one could ask me about the lyrics, about what they meant to me. It’s so tiring trying to figure out how explain something like that. Sorry, I’m rambling. My point is, you were the first.” 

Beca asks Emily to sing something else. The tears stop coming, but Beca’s still sniffling a bit. She didn’t exactly lie to Emily. Her song did get to her. She understands that feeling of dissociation from everyone else perfectly. But it’s something else too. 

Emily singing made Beca feel that shift again. She feels like she could get used to hanging out with Emily. Like this could be something more. Beca and Emily have some sort of connection, an understanding of each other. Emily makes her want to open up, makes her want to spill everything about her life, every emotion she’s kept built up for years. And that terrifies her more than anything.  

//

A few nights later, Emily plays Beca the finished song. Beca doesn’t cry this time, but she feels a tightness in her chest that she can’t shake. Emily singing makes her vulnerable. Every time Emily sings one of her own songs, Beca opens up a little more. It’s like Emily being vulnerable with her music makes Beca want to do the same. 

“Do you ever just want to like, walk into it?” 

“What?” 

“The ocean,” Beca clarifies. “Do you ever just want to walk in?”

“Like, to swim in?” 

“Not exactly. I think...I think I just want to get lost in something. Like the waves. Just...escape.” 

Emily places her hand on Beca’s. Her thumb runs over Beca’s hand soothingly. It’s like she’s telling Beca she’s here, she’s listening, she cares. 

“Is that why you come out here?” Emily asks after a few minutes. “To escape?” 

Beca doesn’t answer. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Emily whispers when the silence gets too strong. The grip on Beca’s hand tightens a bit. “It’s okay.” 

Beca sucks in a breath. Usually she’d try to focus on the sound of the ocean and the undulation of the waves. But now she’s focused on Emily’s hand on hers, anchoring her and keeping her from straying. 

She still wants to escape, to get lost. 

But now she thinks she’d much rather get lost in Emily. 

//

“Beca?” 

“Yeah, Em?” 

“What are you trying to escape from?” 

“I think...I think probably more than anything, from myself.” 

Silence.

“Beca?” 

“Yes?”

“You shouldn’t try to escape from yourself. You’re too awesome. Everyone should be able to be around someone as awesome as you. Including yourself." 

Beca smiles.

“Thank you, Emily.” 

//

“Hey, it’s kind of chilly tonight. I brought a blanket.” 

“Aw, Beca. That’s so sweet.” 

“I never said it was for you.” 

Emily rolls her eyes and pushes Beca so she tumbles over in the sand. “Fine, fine! I surrender. Take the blanket, please just don’t hurt me! I have children.” 

Emily laughs, and Beca thinks it’s almost as pretty as her singing. She wraps the blanket around herself and then holds it open. “Come here, you need to be warm too.” 

Warmth. Something Beca often associates with Emily. Everything about Emily just radiates warmth. And sitting on the beach, wrapped up in the same blanket as her with their shoulders and legs touching, Beca’s feels like her whole body is on fire. 

Beca doesn’t know how long they sit and talk before Emily gently tilts Beca’s head up and presses their lips together. Emily’s mouth is soft against hers, moving slow and hesitantly. It’s full of apprehension. Probably because Beca’s tensed, her hand clutching Emily’s on her thigh. Emily pulls back and there’s hurt in her eyes and Beca feels like she wants to dive into the fucking ocean. 

“I’m sorry,” Emily mumbles, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have...I thought that you -  _ we  _ \- had something going. Maybe I misread this whole thing, I’m sorry, Beca. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Emily tries to move away when Beca doesn’t reply, but Beca’s grip on her hand is still tight and telling her  _ please don’t go.  _

“Beca?” Emily searches Beca’s eyes desperately. “Please talk to me. Say something.” 

“I…” Beca’s mind is moving a million miles per second and she feels like she can’t breathe and she wants to tell Emily how much she wants this but the only thing she can say is, “I’m sorry.” 

And she knows how that sounds to Emily. She knows that makes it seem like she doesn’t want this. She knows what Emily hears is  _ I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same way.  _

But when Emily is walking away, telling Beca she’ll see her soon, all Beca can think is how strongly she feels the same way. 

What Beca wanted to convey is  _ I’m sorry, I can’t be open. I’m sorry, I’m cold and distant. I’m sorry, I’m too scared to tell you how I feel. I’m sorry, I can’t be better. _

It comes too late though. And all that’s left is Beca, alone on the beach. 

//

Beca returns the next few nights. 

Emily doesn’t. 

//

She almost doesn’t go to the beach the next night, but she needs to clear the fog in her head. It’s not like she’s going to sleep anyway. 

She’s surprised when she sees Emily on the beach again. She pauses before she approaches her. All she wants is to just have Emily know how she feels and not have to explain herself. But that’s inevitable. Emily deserves better than Beca’s lame attempts at trying to pretend things are normal. 

Emily is chewing on her pen, like Beca learned she does when she’s struggling to find the right words. Beca takes a deep breath and she’s tapping her fingers on her thigh nervously, trying to keep them from shaking. 

“Hey.” 

Emily looks up, then turns her attention back to her song. “Hey.” 

“I didn’t know if you’d come back.” 

“I didn’t either.” 

“Why did you?” 

“To write. It helps me - ” 

“Process feelings,” Beca finishes. Emily gives her a weak smile and nods. 

“Look, Beca, I’m - ”

“Stop.” Emily looks a little offended. “Sorry. I just... I need to tell you some things.” 

Beca realizes she’s still standing and thinks about sitting next to Emily for a second, but her body is desperately telling her to move, so she paces a little in the sand. Beca thought this was going to be hard, that she would get choked up trying to find the words. But everything that she’s been keeping in, locked up tight, comes spilling out like a waterfall. 

“I like you, Emily. A lot. And I wanted to kiss you back, but I was just so fucking  _ scared.  _ If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the most open person. But you! You come into my life and you make me want to spill all of my secrets. You and your amazing voice and understanding of music, and I just feel like you get me. Almost more than anyone.” 

Beca knows she could stop here, she’s admitted her feelings and apologized and probably has already said more than she had to. But it just keeps coming. 

“Almost. There was someone. A few years ago. They...We connected too,” Beca’s voice cracks a little, but she soldiers on. “But I connected more. I got too attached, I felt too much, got too dependant and they took advantage of that. It fucked me up, dude. That’s why I have such a hard time opening up, even when I want to. The last time I was vulnerable with someone, I got hurt. It’s safer to just not let that happen. But that’s not fair to you, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” 

“It’s not yours either, you know.” 

“What?” 

“You being scared to open up. It’s not your fault.” Emily stands up and takes Beca’s hand. She moves to stroke Beca’s cheek with the other hand. Beca melts at her touch. “I’m sorry that you haven’t been treated right. Thank you for telling me all of that though. I know it must’ve been hard.” 

“Surprisingly, only a little bit.” Beca places her hand over the one on her face. Emily’s eyes are soft and there’s a hint of sadness there. “I know I just dumped a lot of information on you. But what matters is that I have feelings for you, and I’m not going to let my fears get in the way of that anymore.” 

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?” Emily’s voice is barely audible, like she’s afraid to hear the answer. 

“Yes. Please.” 

Emily moves slow, bringing her other hand up so she can fully cup Beca’s face. Her lips press to Beca’s for the second time, and Beca allows herself to react. She moves against Emily’s lips, taking in how gentle they are, how carefully Emily kisses her. Like she’s scared Beca will run away at any moment. 

Beca doesn’t run. Not when Emily is the warmth that Beca needs. Not when they understand each other more than anyone on this planet. Not when Beca needs Emily’s singing like she needs air. 

Beca won’t run from Emily. 

Not now. 

Not ever. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @rosadiaznypd as always
> 
> songs referenced (in order): from eden by hozier (title), smother by daughter, hard feelings by lorde, and hell nos and headphones by hailee steinfeld (of course)


End file.
